Before the Death of Tate Langdon
by Amanda Still Loves Tate
Summary: This story, Take's place before Tate died. What was his life like? His relationship between his siblings? Constance's 4th child? Did he knew the dead breakfast club? Most importantly, what drove him to kill 15 kids?
1. Bitter Memories

Tate missed that familiar sensation of the powder being snorted up his nose; he missed the razor gliding across his wrist. That high; all of that blood; it's what he needed. It's what he wanted.

_"Promise me you'll never do it again."_

Why did he care what she thought? Why did he care about making a stupid promise to a stupid girl from school? He shouldn't. He wouldn't.

He heard his sister's screams, something his mother must have caused, but Tate simply tried to block those screams out. He hated hearing his siblings in pain, hated it more than anything. All of it was his mothers fault, she treated them like shit. Some type of punishment for each of them.

Adelaide: the mirror room.

Beauregard: she'd hit him.

Tate: simply, pure emotional abuse.

But she was the worst to Lynette. Lynette always tried taking the blame for everything. She didn't care what it resulted to; she, just as much as Tate did, hated seeing her siblings in pain. She had a great heart, and a hell of a brain. She was smart, beautiful, and all around, perfect. But that was taken away from her.

* * *

><p><em>Tate walked through the doors of his house, still rubbing his bruised arm from the stupid assholes at school shoving him around all the time, and beating him up, luckily, they didn't go full out on beating him up today. Tate could fight back, he just chose not too. He figured it would piss them off more. Plus, in the moment, he always felt so defenselessness. <em>

_Tate threw his backpack onto the floor. "Addie?" He called out; she was usually the first to great him when he came home. But there was no response. "Beau?" Still, no response. He would call out for his other sister, but she usually stayed at school late on fridays, either hanging out with a friend, or some after school club thing. She was always busy. "Ma?" He decided to try. Maybe Constance had taken them out? Tate rolled his shoulders back, shrugging it off, not putting much thought into it. As Tate walked upstairs he stepped on a ripped piece of paper that was carelessly thrown onto the floor; Tate thought nothing of it, instead he continued up the stairs. His hand felt his forearm, which was covered by a long sleeved shirt. He felt the crave for the sting that the blade gave. No one was home. No one would notice. It would release the energy. It would make things better._

_Tate opened the bathroom door, and suddenly, the thought of cutting, left. The thought of everything, was gone. He felt nothing. He couldn't think, he didn't know how to react. He could hear his heart pounding; it felt like the organ was plummeting down his entire body. He stared up at the unconscious body that was hanged from the iron bar on the top of the shower. Hung there. His sister. Lynette. Dead. Gone forever. Tears fell from his eyes as soon as he saw the image. He felt his whole body shake. He felt denial for the first moments he witnessed this event. Tate climbed in the shower and reached up to untie the knot when his sister had used to hung herself. Once the knot was undone, her body fell into his arms. He sunk down to the floor of the bathtub. It finally hit him. He came to realization that this was happening._

_"No…" He cried between sobs. "Don't..." He couldn't speak, his voice was cracking. His words were barely understandable. He held a tighter grip onto the dead, pale body and cried into his shoulder. "Please, don't leave me…" The words might have helped, if she wasn't already gone._

* * *

><p><em>Tate stood on the top of the stairs, staring at the police, taking his sister away. Putting her in a dead body bag and out of the house. As many left to properly take care of the body, and preserve it, for what they assumed to be a funeral that the family would give the young girl, but two police officers were advised to stay with Tate until someone of the family came home. They sat at the dinning room table, conversing, until one of them saw Tate, just staring at them with his dark brown eyes. "Do you need to talk, son?" One of them offered, but Tate just scowled at them. Tate felt numb and empty. His gaze stayed at the two officers. Once they heard no response, they went back to their previous conversation.<em>

_Why hadn't she told him? Why? He could have prevented this. He could have helped...But how would a coke head help anyone? How would he be of any use? That's probably why she hadn't come to him. Soon, more tears filled his eyes, and his gaze followed down to the floor. He saw a crumbled up paper. Tate blinked a couple times before slowly walking down the stairs. He sat down on the floor, and his brittle hands clasped onto the piece of paper as he carefully unfolded it._

_**Tate, take care of Addie and Beau, they need you. Stay strong. Stronger than me**_

_**Love, Lynette.**_

* * *

><p>Tate shut his eyes tight, reliving that day, certainly did not help the monstrous thoughts. "Fuck it," He mumbled, in tears now of the thought of his dead sister. "It doesn't matter," He yanked the draw open and looked at the silver box, he took it out, just thinking of the relief he would soon feel, calmed him. "You deserve it anyway," he whispered, and opened the box, seeing a couple of blades. He took one, setting the box on his desk.<p>

Tate put the blade against his skin, as soon as he was about to apply pressure between the two materials, flesh and metal, a voice interrupted, "Stop it," It sounded just like his sister. Tate flinched. He sniffled and looked around, panicked. He saw nothing. Not a damn thing.

_I'm going crazy_. He concluded as his attention drew back to the blade and his wrist. He then, put aside everything he heard, and sliced his arm.


	2. Chloe Stapleton

**Short. Pretty boring. But it's just development. Sorry for my crappiness! **

The rattled noise of the cafeteria annoyed Tate. He hated this time. Where all the cliches got together and talked about bunch of pointless shit. Typical and pointless.

"I can't believe he cheated on me!" A preppy cheerleader squealed. He glared at the girl, her piercing voice irking him. 'That tends to happen when you, yourself are a two-timing bitch.

He hated these people. This school. It was crap. Everyone. He hated everyone. Tate drew his attention back to his book, trying to block out the excess chatter. A blond girl sat right next to him, yet Tate kept his focus on the book.

The girl was yet another high school bitter stereotype. She was a cheerleader. Talked to other cheerleaders, dated the popular jocks. "Did you keep your promise?" She asked, scanning Tate's face for any sight of emotion.

Tate licked the tip of his finger and turned the page, still ignoring the girl.

"I'll take that as a no," She assumed, her voice suddenly going bitter.

"I don't want to talk about it," Tate folded the corner of the page he was on and looked at the girl. "Got it? Now leave me alone."

She huffed and puffed. "You're being so difficult,"  
>"I don't even know your goddamn name," He snapped, irritated. "Yet you act like you know everything about me. I don't need to be around another high school bitch," Tate excused himself from the table, gripping the book in his hands, and left the cafeteria.<p>

Tate walked down the halls of the school, refusing to look back, but the girl trotted behind, her arms across her chest. "The name's Chloe."

Tate stopped in his tracks, even though he wasn't surprised from the voice, he was a bit startled. He turned around and made eye contact with the prep. "You don't get the meaning of leave me alone, do you?"

"I want to help."  
>"Bullshit."<br>Chloe took Tate by the arm and yanked him closer to her. She pulled down his sleeves, revealing the wound he had made recently, along with many others tracing his arm. "You broke your promise."  
>"I was bullshitting you," He said honestly, bringing his arm out of the girls grip. He slid the sleeve back down.<p>

"Give me a chance," she said calmly. "Give me one chance, and if you still don't want to be near me, I'll give up, and leave you alone." Her voice was serious and stern.  
>"Fine," Tate had said, mostly to get her off his back.<br>A smile appeared on her face. "Good. You know that dinner around the corner of this school?"  
>Tate nodded, and she continued. "Meet me there. Tonight. At seven." She said and turned around in one swift movement and walked away.<p>

There it was. Six-thirty. Tate stared at the clock, still debating if he was going to go. Tate rose from the chair and walked to the door quietly, but a voice stopped him in his tracks. "Where are you going?"  
>"Out,"<br>"Where?"  
>"Out to eat,"<p>

"With whom?" Her voice turned dark. No one, no one will go out with her son. Not if she could help it.

"A girl from school,"  
>"You're not going," She decided.<br>Tate turned around and stared at his mother, now, suddenly wanting to go more than he had previously, simply because she didn't want him to. "Yes I am,"  
>"Come here,"<br>Tate stayed where he was.  
>"Come here!"<br>No movement.

Constance hastily walked over to her son. "You will listen to me! You will stay home tonight! I'm going out, you must stay with your siblings. Be useful for once and help your goddamn siblings!"

And that was that. Tate never went to meet up with Chloe.


	3. Kyle Greenwell

Blood rushed from his mouth from a punch some stupid joke had impacted on Tate. Tate was down on his knees. He wiped his mouth just to come from a kick in the gut. "That's what you get psycho!"

There were five of them surrounding him. It'd be stupid to say word; to stand up for himself.

"What are you guys doing?" Yelled a guy, whose voice sounded a bit familiar. The jocks backed away from Tate and looked at the one who had shouted. Tate picked his up, curious who called out. Yet another jock. _Fuck_. Tate thought. _Can't they just leave me alone?_  
>"Leave the guy alone," He said, walking closer to Tate. He kneeled down next to him. "You alright, man?"<p>

Tate didn't respond, he just stared at him in disbelief. Once the tall guy realized he wasn't responding, he helped to get Tate up on his feet.

"What are you doing?" Tate said, his voice in a hoarse whisper. It clicked now that the guy was the caption on the football team. Weren't those guys supposed to be the biggest douchebags? The captions?

The football player looked at the others around him, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Practice is soon. Get the fuck out of here." He spat.

The jocks left, but they certainly weren't happy about this whole encounter.

"Why did you do that?" Tate asked again, confused as ever.  
>"Stop asking questions." He said, letting go of Tate once he felt that he was steady.<p>

"You have to give me some sort of answer…I don't even know who you are."  
>"Kyle Greenwell. There. Now you know who I am." Then the boy, Kyle, started walking off.<p>

"That's it?" He said, not getting why the kid wasn't giving him any answers.

"Don't mention this to anyone," Kyle shot back, but didn't even turn around. He turned the hallway, the exit of the school to go onto what Tate assumed to be the football field.

Tate fell weak again. He slid down against the locked, sitting onto the floor. He ran his hand through his curly hair and spat some blood onto the floor out of vexation. He wasn't mad or anything, just annoyed. He wanted answers. Tate didn't enjoy being stuck, sitting there dumbfounded.

_**Next day, in fourth hour, English.**_

Tate felt a jab in his back. He turned around, finding that Chloe stole the past guy who was sitting there spot. "You never showed up," She said, referring to the… encounter they were supposed to do a couple days ago.

"Sorry," Tate was honestly sorry, but it didn't come off as sincere. "I just…Had something to do."

"Yeah? Bullshit." She remarked. "We made a deal. You're supposed to keep deals…Like you're supposed to keep promise…I guess that sort of thing isn't your forte, is it?"  
>Tate gave a roll in his eyes. "Do you really have to bring that up now?" I guess his voice went up from a whisper because the teacher heard. The teacher slapped her ruler on the desk, and Tate's head snapped in the direction of the voice.<br>"Care to share, Mr. Langdon?"  
>Tate sank in his chair. "No ma'am." He said, his voice going back to even.<p>

"I didn't," her voice was cut off by the sound of the bell. Tate through on his back-pack, and went to look at the desk Chloe sat in to find she was already out the door. "Dammit." He muttered; then ran out the door, pushing a couple people aside. "Chloe!" He shouted down the hall. Dodging people down the hallway, he caught up to Chloe within a couple seconds. "Dammit Chloe, will you wait?" They were not in even pace.  
>"What is it?" She said in a sassy remark.<p>

"Can't we try meeting up again? Please?" He said, pretty much imploringly.

But Chloe had no response, just kept walking.  
>"Today. After school," That way, his mother couldn't interfere. "The park."<br>Chloe kept walking, but Tate stopped in dead center. I guess she was just going to give up on him, throw him off to the side. But to his surprise, once she was out of his vision. She came running back up and giving him a light kiss on the cheek, then went back to walking off to her class.

There he stood; completely dumbfounded yet again.


	4. Stephanie Boggs

**Thanks for reading guys. Reviews are appreciated! How far do you think he'll end up getting with Stephanie? or will something happen between him and Chloe? But needless to stay there's still twelve other victims we need to meet...**

She was different. Not into all the cut throat war to popularity. She was an outcast, like him. Like Tate. She would let no one walk over her, she would not be a victim of bullying. She would rise above. She wasn't afraid to tell someone the truth, no matter how much of a bitch it made her seem. Even though she herself was an outcast, she wouldn't give Tate the time of day.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Chloe retorted when she caught Tate staring at the girl yet again.

Tate left his gaze from the girl, Stephanie was her name; Stephanie Boggs, and looked at Chloe, whom he has been hanging out with a lot lately. "Shut up." He snapped at her. It wasn't any of her business.

"You make it so obvious," She teased with a playful smile on her face. "Come on, she's sitting at the table all alone."

"That's not my problem." Tate said, getting up from his seat, but only to get away from Chloe.

Since Tate was being so hardheaded, Chloe took it into her own hands and pushed him to the table the goth girl was at.

"Stop it!" He sneered, but soon enough he was by Stephanie, and would look pretty stupid if he just walked away. A weird feeling swept over him. "Um, hey," Tate said lamely. "Stephanie, right?"

The girl gave Tate an uninterested look. "Correct," She said, her voice more welcoming than the look she gave. "and you're Tate Langdon."

Tate's jaw opened slightly, a bit shocked that she knew who he was. He was about to speak, but Stephanie cut him off by standing up. "Look, I have to go." She said carelessly and walked away.

When Tate walked through the doors the first people in his view were Constance and some...new guy. Great. Tate thought. She fucking yet another guy. He wasn't interested so he tried darting up the stairs as fast as he could.

"Tate!" His mom yelled. "I have to introduce you to someone." Tate had to listen, not wanting any abuse. He slowly walked back down the stairs and locked his eyes on the two adults.

"What?"  
>"This is Larry." His mother said, almost as if she was proud.<br>"and? I care why?"  
>Constance's look turned cold. "and we," She looked to Larry and gave a smile. "We are getting serious, Tate. Do you understand?"<p>

"Oh, so he's not just another not another guy's dick you suck?"

Constance gave Tate a look. No words. Just a look. A look that let Tate know that he was going to pay later.

But Tate didn't care about that now. He gave a roll of his eyes and went up to his room, followed by snorting up another line of coke to sooth his nerves. So he wouldn't have to think of the future.


	5. Kelsey Jackson

Science class, chemistry to be more specific. It's not that Tate was stupid. It was quite the opposite. But he had no interest in participating, especially if it included partners. Humanity was and is stupid. Never learn from previous mistakes. Humans are naturally cruel and greedy to a point where it's disgusting. And Tate recognized this and had no interest in being involved with people than he needed. He'd rather take the F and catch up on some sleep.

Tate began to doze off, his elbow propped up on the table and his hand leaning on his cheek. Some classical high school pricks began to take paper and roll it into little balls, throwing them at Tate. At the multiple hits, he slammed his fist down on the table.

He was so sick of them. So sick of everything. Everything in Tate told him to just kill them. Every single one of them. But what would that do? What would taking the bad people out do? Bad people were everywhere. It was rare to find someone he liked.

Tate got up and went to stuck up assholes, his fist ready to plummet into their faces. He was tired of letting them do this to him.

"Tate!" Hissed a girl that was now sitting next to his seat by the experiment they were supposed to work on. She had light green eyes with the darkest of brown hair. One strip of red streamed down the waves. She shook his head. "It's not worth it."

Tate took a moment to digest her words. He didn't want to listen to her. But he's been in enough trouble lately. Last thing he needed was this pointless bullshit. The assholes laughed as Tate decided to walk back to his seat.

The girl whose name he could not remember, started to mix some things together for him. "You need to stop letting them interfere. It's not worth it…"

Tate just stared at the girl. She gave a gentle smile and extended her hand out for a casual handshake. "Kelsey Jackson."

Tate gave a sigh and shook her hand. "Tate Langdon."


End file.
